


He's Not You

by hope27



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Season 3 Speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 03:15:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2093628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope27/pseuds/hope27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Oliver finds Felicity in the Foundry one evening she was supposed to have a date with Ray, they have a conversation that changes their relationship...again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He's Not You

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** This came to me after sitting in a bunch of meetings and reading over the new interviews with the EP’s of Arrow. One of the big questions for Oliver and Felicity is going to be “Can I be with someone else if I’m not with you?” and that answer is obviously going to be no…but I wanted to explore it with this little drabble.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! As always, I LOVE to know what you think, so let me know! Thanks for all your support!

As Oliver entered the Foundry, he hadn’t expected to hear the soft tapping of fingers against a keyboard. Immediately alert, he froze halfway down the stairs, eyes quickly taking in all corners and dark spaces before landing on the familiar form of Felicity. 

He frowned, brow furrowing as he recalled her telling him the other day that she was going to take the night off. She had a date with Palmer. He was sure because he remembered the way his stomach clenched into that familiar ball of discomfort when she’d mentioned something about an important conversation. He’s plastered a smile on his face and told her go, have a good time.

Her eyes had flashed with something at his almost-terse tone, but she’d let it be and he’d been thankful. If she would have pushed it, he knew there was a very good chance he’d have broken. 

He took in her appearance, eyes landing on the casual attire she wore; her legs curled comfortably underneath her as if she were at home on her couches her as she occupied her chair in front of the bank of monitors. 

It was how at home he felt when she was here that really made him pause. Without her, this was just a foundry - walls and mats; a place to train and run schematics from on a mission. 

With her, it was _home_. 

A place he felt at peace whenever he entered after a long day. Seeing her sitting at her computer lessened the ache in his chest that had taken up residence there ever since that night almost six months ago when he’d brought her back to the foundry covered in ash and blood.

She scrolled through her screens with one hand, the other playing idly with one of her dangling silver earrings, a habit he’d come to recognize as one of her many different thinking poses.

For the first time in days, they were alone. 

Hours earlier, he’d sent Diggle home to Lyla and the baby. After watching an irritable Roy train, he’d sent him on his way as well. He was restless and needed space to think. His eyes had drifted to the bank of computers and her empty chair more than once as he’d worked over the training dummies. He missed her; even when she was only gone for a night. Seeing her space empty left a bad taste in his mouth and sent his chest into knots of worry and unease. 

After an hour on the salmon ladder, his mind still spinning around the idea that he part of his restlessness was caused by her physical absence, he’d suited up and grabbed his bow, deciding he to try to work off his frustrations with a little fresh air. He didn’t like going out without her in his ear but he made sure to keep to the rooftops and shadows. 

Unfortunately, he’d found the city unnervingly quiet despite the late hour. He’d decided to return to the foundry, hoping with a few more rounds on the salmon ladder or pull ups from the ceiling, he’d be able to pass out from exhaustion.

That was until he’d found her here.

His eyes slid over her once more, memorizing every little detail about her, making sure she was real and he wasn’t dreaming. He’d been doing a lot of that lately. 

Her hair was thrown up in her signature ponytail, soft curls hanging curling over her shoulder. Dark skinny jeans clung to her curves, and he had to admire the royal blue patterned top with a keyhole cut out of the back, showing off the play of muscles along her shoulder blades as she typed. 

His bow creaked under the pressure of his grip as the image of his hand on the exposed flesh danced through his mind. Closing his eyes briefly, he clenched his jaw, ordering himself to relax.

With only a hint of hesitation, he let out a silent breath and slowly continued down the rest of the stairs. When he reached at the bottom, he watched her shoulders rise in awareness and realized she knew he was there. 

“I thought you were on a date with Pal...Ray,” he said, catching his slip, remembering the conversation they’d had last week about his use of Ray’s last name and the reasoning behind it. 

He tried to keep his tone steady, but even he could hear the frisson of tension running beneath. 

With three measured steps, he reached the glass case that housed his bow, setting it on it’s stand without looking. His eyes remained trained on her, watching how her shoulders sagged as she took a deep breath. 

“Actually…” she began, her voice soft as she swiveled in her chair, legs unfurling beneath her.

She stood, her eyes focused on the floor at his feet as her next words left her mouth. 

“Ray and I aren’t…” she paused, swallowing and then drawing in a rapid breath before changing courses, “We decided…we broke up,” she finished quickly.

Her eyes darted to his, blue meeting blue as he stilled, refusing to even breath in case he’d heard wrong.

Something akin to hope unfurled in his chest, fluttering wildly against his ribcage.

Blinking twice, he waited a beat before sucking in a deep breath, and opening his mouth, forcing out his reply. “I thought you really liked him...”

Felicity sighed, her whole body deflating as she gave a soft, rueful chuckle. Twisting her hands in front of her, she craned her head backwards and glanced towards the ceiling. 

Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks and he realized a moment later that she was trying to keep the tears at bay.

“I do…” she whispered thickly, shaking her head and that flame of hope was doused to a quiet ember as she continued. “He’s kind and charming and sweet and tall, dark and handsome - one of those things girls dream about when they’re younger...He knows what I’m talking about when I ramble on and on about technology or science and he can even keep up with my sometimes very odd sense of humor….”

Oliver shifted uncomfortably, his hands balling into fists at his side, suddenly wishing he could take back his last statement. The last thing he needed was a list of reasons why Ray Palmer was the perfect guy for Felicity. A knot of agitation formed in his stomach, setting him on edge as he grit his teeth and waited for her to finish.

“He’s so funny, and he even has that whole alter ego thing I apparently go for…” she whispered, her voice catching softly.

He inhaled sharply, chest expanding as the hope inside fought for life.

“He’s wonderful.” Her voice grew quieter as she tilted her head forward, biting her bottom lip. 

Oliver felt like a lifetime passed as he waited for her next words, his entire body on edge, fingers itching for his bow again - something to hold so he didn’t feel so off-balance. 

She peered up at him through her glasses and bit down on her bottom lip before dragging in a ragged breath.

“But…he’s not _you_.”

Oliver stopped moving, stopped breathing, stopped thinking. All the air was seemingly sucked from the room as those words echoed around them.

Blue eyes watered, lips tilting upwards as she shrugged her shoulders. His silence lasted long enough that she apparently felt the need to continue, her proclivity for words in what she deemed awkward or tense situations roaring to life as she plowed ahead. 

“He’s not you, Oliver. And no matter how hard I tried to tell myself I could be happy with him…I just kept thinking, he’s not you. No matter how much I tried to love him...I couldn’t,” she paused, gathering herself, her voice becoming stronger. “Because I love you...and I…”

She didn’t get the chance to finish, her words sending air rushing back through his body and, in two long strides, he’d closed the distance between them, both of his hands cupping her cheeks as he brought his lips down hard and fast against hers.

He swallowed whatever she’d planned to say next, his tongue sliding across her bottom lip and into her mouth. She seemed frozen against him for a few seconds, palms spread flat against his jacket, and then his tongue met hers and she responded. Her fingers fisted in the material of his green leather jacket and she surged up onto her toes, pulling him closer. 

Electricity skittered down his spine, heat spiraling through him as he tasted her for the first time, and it was better and more than he ever imagined. Her lithe body pressed against his, caused his own to react immediately, and he couldn’t stop the low growl when her hips pushed involuntarily into his.

Needing to slow this down before he had her against the med bay table or the nearest concrete pillar, he threaded his fingers through her ponytail, ghosting over the nape of her neck. He felt her shiver at his touch and eased his pressure on her lips. His thumbs brushed away the wetness on her cheeks, nipping at her lower lip, sucking in deep pulls of air before fusing his mouth with hers once more.

She moaned, and he felt her hands traveling up his chest, nimble fingers finding the zipper and tugging it down. Once open, her hands snaked inside, and he growled as cool fingers made contact with his hot flesh.

One of his hands cupped the back of her head, thumb resting along her jaw as he angled her head up and nipped at her lips, place soft quick kisses before lingering longer and longer.

His tongue swept through her mouth, tangling with her at a more languid pace as he wrapped his other arm around her back.

When they finally broke apart, both gasping for breath, he leaned his forehead on hers. The knot deep inside him that had been present for the past six months ebbed and faded into nothingness as he held her in his arms, lips still tingling from the feel and taste of her.

“Say it again,” he whispered throatily, chest aching in the best possible way.

Her palm splayed flat over his heart as her eyes flicked up to his. “I love you.”

His lips descended on hers once more and he knew he could spend his whole life doing just this - kissing her, holding her, loving her.

When he pulled back he was surprised to see her brow furrowed, worry flashing through her eyes and he immediately knew she was thinking about the last time they'd tried to do this and the disastrous outcome.

“What about…”

He pecked her lips, his eyes falling shut as her bowed his head and letting his nose skim along her hairline until his mouth was near her ear. He was so tired of fighting what his heart wanted and needed; so tired of letting fear control his life.

“We’ll find another way,” he whispered against her skin. “Like we always do.”

She heaved a sigh of relief, a soft murmur of laughter erupting from her as she burrowed her face against the crook of his neck, 

As they held each other tight, he knew that he’d never let her go again.


End file.
